


Windows with a view

by BlueAlmond



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies), Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Family, Gen, Light Angst, Love, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Protective Siblings, Summer of 1898, no duel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-08
Updated: 2019-12-08
Packaged: 2021-02-26 19:01:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,353
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21713539
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlueAlmond/pseuds/BlueAlmond
Summary: Ariana is Albus's responsibility and, most importantly, his priority.Gellert understands.
Relationships: Albus Dumbledore & Ariana Dumbledore, Albus Dumbledore/Gellert Grindelwald
Comments: 10
Kudos: 65





	Windows with a view

Albus’s window, in both Hogwarts and the house he grew up in, points to the west. The sight of the sun going down is one he’s more than familiar with, and it always brings him some sort of comfort. Sunsets are not only beautiful; they also indicate the hard part of the day is over. At nightfall, most responsibilities can be forgotten, and all worries can be pushed away till morning. From his window in the house he grew up in, in addition, he could see an old oak tree. It was not very far, and from the kitchen window, right beneath his bedroom, it was also visible.

When Aberforth was four and Albus six, their father took them there and built a swing for them, while their mother watched with little Ariana in her arms. They spent the entire afternoon out, their father pretending they were helping — they certainly were not, with their tiny, homemade hammers charmed to always avoid hitting their skin, just hitting the tree trunk while their father did all the actual work on the branch he had chosen to put the swing on.

For years, all three of them would go to play there religiously after every meal, taking turns and imagining all sorts of stories where the swing was not that, but something else; it was often a pirate ship, a liana they used to escape some danger in foreign woods, and a rope that would bring them into some tower where a battle was taking place. Sometimes Albus would take a book and sit against the tree while his siblings played without him, though he would always join at some point.

Until the summer before he was meant to go to Hogwarts.

It was stupid, he knows now, but back then he was a stupid child. And he was excited about finally going to school, to meet other wizards and witches like him, and he didn’t have time for his siblings. He wanted to read all the new books his parents had bought for him, to memorize them and impress all his teachers; he couldn’t be distracted with children’s games. Not even the day Aberforth woke up with a cold and didn’t go out either. He didn’t think Ariana would go on her own, but even if she did, he never could have guessed something bad would happen. They played there _every day_ , for years, and they never even noticed other people around. Their closest neighbours were miles away, and the town was even further.

He never could’ve guessed it, but it happened. She didn’t scream. They only noticed something was wrong when their mum went into the kitchen just in time to see the tree branch which held the swing going down.

They hurt his little sister, and it was his fault. And then their father was gone too. And in days, so were they. Just as fast as the tree branch had yielded, their little family cracked. And nothing was ever the same again.

From his window in Godric’s Hollow —which points to the North, instead— he can also see an old oak tree. It’s a lot closer, in their yard, protected by the property’s fence. It doesn’t look as strong as the one they had before, but at least they know they’ll be safe there, in a way.

It’s their mum’s idea, putting a swing there. Albus isn’t sure about it, but Aberforth gets to work right away — even though he’s only eight. Their mum helps, with magic, as subtly as she can, and they make a decent job. Ariana doesn’t use it though, not at first. She doesn’t even leave her room. But Aberforth asks her if she wants to every morning anyway. He never insists after she says no, but it still irritates Albus. By the time he finally goes to Hogwarts, she still hasn’t left her room a single day.

He expects everything to be the same when he goes home in December, so he’s shocked when he sees her outside. She’s not laughing, but at least she’s smiling. Everything about her is dimmer somehow, but even at his young age, he can tell that’s _progress_ , and that if she’s improving, then that means maybe one day she’ll recover completely.

It takes him two years to realize that’s not going to happen. And what’s worse is that Aberforth needs to scream it on his face for him to do so.

The three of them had spent an entire afternoon playing on the swing like they used to do when they were children — well, they still _were_ children; Albus hadn’t turned thirteen yet, his brother was ten, and Ariana was only eight years old. She was quiet, perhaps too quiet, and a little clumsy, but in Albus’s eyes, as they played like they used to, she seemed to be okay. Aberforth noticed this and thought necessary to angrily correct him. Everything Aberforth did when it was just the two of them, he did angrily, ever since that day when he had a cold, and Albus still refused to play outside. The following day, Aberforth is the one that doesn’t want to leave his room. But Albus still invites Ariana to go outside after breakfast, and she agrees. And after lunch, Aberforth goes, too.

They’re no longer close, Albus and Aberforth. Not since the summer before he went to Hogwarts for the first time. But when Ariana joins them, they can pretend. They can play and laugh and sometimes their shoulders brush when they sit against the tree trunk, but only when Ariana is there. When they cross paths in the corridors of Hogwarts, they don’t even greet each other. But in Godric’s Hollow, in the yard of that little house Albus has never considered a home, they can pretend. And Albus is almost happy there, when he sees Ariana smile, albeit weakly, and his brother tolerates him enough to even laugh at some of his jokes.

In the episode that ends up taking their mother’s life, one of the many things Ariana destroys with her outburst, is the branch that holds the swing in the old oak tree. Their neighbour helps rearrange the house before the authorities arrive, but she doesn’t think to fix the tree. And when Albus makes a comment about it, Aberforth says it’s probably for the better. That they’re too old to use that thing anyway.

Albus doesn’t tell him he’s wrong, like he wants to. But he deliberately doesn’t voice his agreement, either. But it looks like Ariana will lock herself in her room once again that summer, so maybe he _is_ right. He still doesn’t want to admit it, so when he finds an excuse to get out of the house, he grabs it and he doesn’t let it go.

The fact that his excuse is highly attractive and brilliant on top of that, is just a plus.

But of course, as the only adult of the house, he’s got responsibilities he can’t brush off. And after two full weeks of hesitation, he ends up bringing Gellert in. He figures the boy will make any place better with his presence, and he’s right. As he gets better and better at domestic tasks, he starts to feel like he can do anything so long he’s got Gellert by his side.

Gellert seems to share the sentiment, and before they know it, they’re talking about actually trying to accomplish the impossible together. Deep down, Albus knows there’s something, if not inherently wrong, then at least controversial about most of the things they’re discussing, especially the dangerously radical ones, but it’s hard to see the downside of anything after a couple of orgasms.

“Aberforth will never agree to it, you know,” he says, staring at the broken tree branch that’s perfectly visible from his bedroom window.

Gellert frowns. “We don’t need his permission.”

“No, but I’m sure Ariana would like to have it. Not his permission, but his blessing. She… cares more about his opinion than mine.”

Gellert sighs heavily and throws himself on the bed, his forearm going to his forehead as if that could help him see the answer. It works. “Let’s wait until he’s back in school. Then, we let her tell him about it, on a letter. We convince her first, get her excited with the idea, and hope for the best.” A mischievous smile creeps onto his face. “We can always read his answer before she does, just to make sure he won’t ruin anything then.”

“We can’t do that,” Albus replies, although he’s smiling, turning in his chair to look at the boy lying on his bed.

He’s never wanted anything more, not in his entire life, and he’s wanted many things in his nearly eighteen years. He’s got more regrets than most of the people twice his age, but he’s certain that what he’s doing with Gellert will never become one. Because a life where he never meets Gellert, where he never gets to know what he tastes like, where he never gets to hear him laugh or where he doesn’t get to learn his thoughts, simply isn’t a life worth living.

“I don’t need you to come with me to the station, you know,” says Aberforth after breakfast exactly one week before the start of term, chin slightly tilted upwards and eyes defiant. “I can go alone. I’m not a child.”

Albus frowns. “I know you’re not a child, Ab.”

“Good. Then I’ll go alone.”

Albus wants to argue, but he catches a glimpse of Ariana rushing up the stairs as quietly as she can, and he realizes the logic and fear behind Aberforth’s arrogant demand. They can’t take her to London, not to a train station, and leaving her alone is certainly not a good idea. Albus would feel comfortable leaving her with Gellert, but he’s afraid if he were to suggest that, his brother would actually punch him. And thus, a week later, his little brother leaves alone, off to the place that always felt more like a home to Albus than the little house he’s left standing in, and it is strange, watching it happen, but the excitement on his stomach doesn’t allow him to be sad. With Aberforth gone, they’re _free_.

“The train must have left already,” mutters Albus, knowing in his bones that is true.

Ariana nods. “He’s gone. But we’ll see him in December, right?”

“Yes,” he promises with all the conviction he can muster, “yes, we will see him in December. We’ll all be together again, in December.”

She takes a deep breath, gaze lost somewhere out the window, and for a long time, none of them say a thing. It still is summer, but autumn always comes a little early in Godric’s Hollow, and the colours outside are mostly yellows and oranges. It is pretty, and a rare sight for Albus, who was always too excited about going back to Hogwarts to notice. Eventually, without moving an inch, Ariana says: “You really are going to take me with you?”

“Yes, Ari, of course. I could never leave you alone.”

Nervously, she fidgets with the buttons of the left sleeve of her dress. “I know. I can’t be left alone.”

“That’s not what I meant.” He hesitates just a second before reaching out to grab her hand. “It’s not only that you’re my responsibility. It’s that you’re my sister, and I love you. I _want_ to take you with me, Ari. I promise.”

She finally meets his eye, an expression of cautious anticipation on her face. “Okay. Maybe you do, but…”

“You’re my sister. You’re my priority, and Gellert knows that. But if he ever forgets, I won’t hesitate to remind him.”

She may not believe that, but she trusts him. And in a matter of days, they leave. They leave the country and who knows if they’ll ever be able to return. That’s the plan, sure, but anything could happen. Nothing is set on stone, and tragedy seems to follow them around, but they still leave, with as much optimism as they can muster —which isn’t much on her part, but it is apparently a lot on his— and make it to Paris in one piece. None of them really know how they’re supposed to afford the two-story apartment, but Gellert told them not to worry about it, and they’ve got no intention of doing so. It is too beautiful to try and ruin it.

After seeing the whole place and leaving their bags on their respective rooms, they go back to the living room, the most vivid place so far, with the lit fireplace, the colourful carpet, bright curtains and the large, open windows.

“Do you like it?” Gellert asks.

Ariana smiles. “It’s… different. It’s so different.” She closes her eyes and breathes in, as if she’s trying to absorb both the city air and all the noise coming from the outside. “I love it. I just have one question; you said my room was upstairs?”

“Yes, it’s the entire floor,” says Gellert, beaming happily at her, as she wraps them both in a quick hug before rushing up again. His expression turns to concern once she’s left, though, and with a slight frown, he mutters: “Albus?”

“I’m fine,” he says, rubbing his eye with the back of his hand. “I’m fine, I just… she’s so happy,” he licks his lips, “and that’s, that’s ridiculous. This is nothing. This should be nothing, but it’s everything to her, because she’s been trapped her whole life, and that is not okay!”

“But she’s free now, Albus. We set her free.”

“Is she, though?”

Gellert purses his lips. “She’s as free as she can be for now. Even without her condition, she’s been sheltered her whole life, and giving her absolute freedom with no supervision would be irresponsible of us.”

“She’s an—”

“She’s not an adult yet, Albus. She’s your little sister, and she’s happy. Can’t you be happy, too?” He takes a step closer to the ginger and offers him his hand. “Can’t you be happy, with me?”

Albus eyes his hand for a moment that to Gellert feels eternal, but he eventually holds it. “Yes. I don’t think I could not be happy if I tried.”

♥

The view from her room in Paris is like nothing she’s ever seen before.

She doesn’t quite remember the one from the house she was born in, but in Godric’s Hollow, all she could see from her window were a couple of tree tops, a barn, and the occasional sheep. She grew up with that view and never thought she would want a different one, but now that she has one, she cannot bear to think of a life where she doesn’t learn any better. She’s grateful for the opportunity, but she cannot help to be confused as well. She knows not to ask Albus, though, because he’s an expert at dodging the questions that make him uncomfortable.

Gellert Grindelwald may be full of shit, but at least most of his interactions with Aberforth seemed to indicate he doesn’t mince his words.

“Why did you bring me along?” she asks him two days after they move, when Albus is out buying some things. “Aren’t I delaying you? Aren’t I a burden to your plans?”

“A burden?” He turns to stare at her with arched eyebrows. “I thought you were on our side.”

“Of course I am. But I’m not, I’m not a soldier.” She lowers her head, suddenly wishing she hadn’t brought it up. “I’m not smart, like you, or strong — I can’t do anything to help!”

“How can you say that you’re not strong? Ariana, you’re the strongest person I’ve ever met,” says Gellert.

“Don’t lie to me.”

“I’m not.”

She frowns. “How can you say that? What have I ever done for you to describe me in such a way? I’m just a broken, shell of a girl that can’t do anything on her own.”

“Is that really what you see when you look in the mirror?”

“Yes. Do you see something different?”

“Yes.”

She stares at him in silence for a moment, face growing red and nostrils flaring, but he doesn’t try to calm her down, like her siblings do. He simply waits. He waits for the air around them to thin, for the darkness around her silhouette to go out on its own. If Albus saw them, he would probably freak out, but Gellert is relaxed. Maybe that’s irresponsible, possibly even foolish and naïve of him.

But it works. She calms down on her own.

“What?” she asks, and she doesn’t sound angry, just incredulous.

“I don’t think you’re broken, Ari. I think something terrible happened to you, but it didn’t break you. You’re still here. You kept going, no matter how hard it was.”

She shakes her head. “But I didn’t. I can’t even use magic properly.”

“Magic may be a part of who we are, as wizards, but it’s not everything.”

“I’m _dangerous_.”

“You’re powerful. There’s a difference.”

“If that were the case, I could control this. But I can’t.”

“No one is in control when they’re scared. Not without a lot of practice, and even then.”

“Are you suggesting I practice?”

“Maybe I am. What would you say to that?”

“I’d say you’re insane.”

Gellert grins and shrugs one shoulder. “Maybe I am. Your brother has called me that more times than I can count, but somehow he still wants to be around me.”

“He loves you,” she says.

“I know. I love him too.”

He could be lying, but she actively chooses to believe he isn’t. Maybe that’s silly of her, but her mother once told her that most people make at least one or two lies their truth, because it makes life easier, better. And if Gellert Grindelwald loving her brother back is a lie, then it is one that makes her, _their_ lives better. She grew used to missing her siblings while they were away in school, but she loves them all the same. She knows them better than anyone else. And she knows what her big brother needs to be happy.

She just hasn’t yet decided whether she’s an obstacle or not for that, and that makes her nervous. Still, she’s resolute on enjoying everything while it lasts, and her afternoons sitting by the window reading or drawing while Albus knits shortly becomes one of her favourite things to do.

“I like him, for you, you know?” she tells him about two weeks into their new home. She knows they’re only passing through, and that they’ll be heading East in November, but she believes every place with Albus in it, where she feels safe, it’s a home.

Albus almost drops the knitting sticks after he hears her, though. “What?”

“Gellert,” her eyes twinkle, “is good for you. I like him. I like how much he cares for you, and I like how happy he makes you.” She bites her bottom lip and caresses the section of the scarf that’s already done. “And I like him, as a friend. I know I’m probably not a friend to him, but… he’s my friend. I like having him around.”

Albus doesn’t know what to say. He just stares at her, stunned, watching for the first time in years the dimples on her cheeks and the shiny curls of her untied hair. It is a sight he thought he would never see again, and it almost makes him cry. He swallows hard, and then he smiles.

“You are going to change the world, Albus,” she says as she stretches her arm until she can grab his hand. “You and Gellert, you’re going to fix it. I am certain.”

He squeezes her hand in return, and his eyes sting with unshed tears, but his chest feels tight with happiness. “Thank you, Ari,” he whispers. “And you’re going to be with us every step of the way. I promise.”

She doesn’t look dim anymore. She’s radiant. She says: “I can’t wait.”


End file.
